


for moony

by poutings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders' Era, Secret Admirer, but what else is new, james is fed up, peter barely talks lmao, sirius blushes a Lot, they're dorks in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 08:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11711037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poutings/pseuds/poutings
Summary: Remus has a secret admirer that he's decided is a horrible poet.Or the one where Sirius always blushes, James is fed up, and Remus might've known all along.





	for moony

**Author's Note:**

> god the poems are terrible. even the ones where i wasn't purposefully writing poorly. so sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy it! since sirius and remus invented friends to lovers and all
> 
> also this has no concept of time who even knows what time is idk not me

“You don’t get it, Moony,” Sirius says around a mouthful of food. “It’s going to be fucking fantastic. Just wait till the whole school sees the look on his face.” He’d been trying to explain his newest idea for a prank for ten minutes now. 

“And how exactly is the _whole school_ going to see?” James asks. He sounds slightly bored, and Remus can’t figure out why. James is usually always ready to buckle down and think up a way to torture Snape. He follows James’ line of vision to Lily, and he nods to himself. _That makes sense_. She’s sitting only a few people down from them, laughing at something Alice has said. Remus smiles slightly to himself, then continues piling his plate with food. 

“Okay,” Sirius exclaims, “I’ve got it. Listen.” He leans in, looking at the others expectantly. 

They all sigh simultaneously and lean in too, almost touching heads in the middle of the table as they wait for Sirius to tell them his magnificent plan. 

“We replace his shampoo with grease. I know,” he says, looking at James who’s already opened his mouth to protest, then at Remus who’s devoted his attention back to his book. “We’ve done this before. But that’s just the beginning. There are phases, see? That’s the first phase. The one that lets him _know_ we’re fucking with him. The second one?”

But before he has a chance to tell them what the second phase is, though, there’s a yelp from Peter and a small _clack_ as his cup falls over and covers Sirius in orange juice. 

“Fuck me raw,” he says, wiping his hands on his shirt.

“Later,” Remus says, not looking up from where he now has his book balanced between his plate and his cup.

Sirius splutters, seemingly choking on air. “What?” he asks, eyes wide.

Remus doesn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth quirks up a little. He just _knows_ Sirius’ cheeks are bright red.

“He said he’d fuck you raw later,” James supplies, going back to shoveling pancakes into his mouth. 

Peter squeaks a little from his seat next to James, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah,” Sirius says, “I heard that.”

“Then why’d you—” James starts, but Sirius cuts him off.

“Because I didn’t expect that from Moony’s mouth,” he says.

“What do you expect from my mouth, Pads?” Remus asks with a smirk, finally glancing up from his book to look at Sirius when he makes a choked sound. The blush is high on his cheeks, and Remus turns to see James smirking at him. He meets James’ eye and gives him a smile and a small nod. 

“Mate,” is all James says, nodding his head in return. 

“Anyway, what was it you were saying about that prank, Padfoot?” Remus asks, expecting it to distract Sirius. 

When Sirius just stares at him, though, a contemplative look on his face, Remus is a little surprised. He tilts his head a bit, raising a questioning eyebrow back at him. Sirius just shakes his head a little, the blush darkening the slightest bit, and Remus turns back to his book with a smile.

He hears James let out an exasperated sigh, mumbling under his breath. “Honestly you two.”

Remus feels the orange juice start to seep into his pants where Sirius is just barely touching his leg, and he murmurs a drying spell to get rid of it. Sirius grunts in thanks.

“So, tonight, lads,” James says, clapping his hands together. “What are the plans.”  
  
“I need to go to the—” Remus starts.

“Library,” Sirius finishes. “Surprise, surprise.” 

Remus gives him a short glare and then continues. “We have that Herbology essay, remember? Or were you planning on blowing that off?”

“That’s not the only thing I was planning on blowing,” Sirius says with a wink. 

Remus rolls his eyes as James groans. Peter is decidedly very quiet. “Was it going to be your own horn as you strut around the Common Room like a peacock too small for its tail?” Remus asks sweetly and Sirius scowls. 

“No,” he grumbles. 

James and Peter laugh from their seats across the table.

“What exactly were you hoping for?” Remus asks, eyes drifting back to his book again. 

Sirius mumbles something that he doesn’t quite catch, but Remus doesn’t push him anymore. 

“Anyway,” James says pointedly. “I wanted your help to woo Lily tonight.”

Sirius groans, long and drawn out until Remus elbows him in the ribs. “Quit it, Moony,” he hisses, but there’s a smile on his face as he looks to his side at him. Remus smiles briefly in return. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asks James, even though he’s certain he’s not going to help. 

After he and Lily developed a friendship, Remus has been less and less inclined to participate in James’ crazy courting attempts. 

“I don’t know,” James sighs. “That’s why I needed your help. You were always the best at it, Moony. You know Padfoot and Wormtail are complete shit at love.”  
  
Sirius huffs indignantly at that. “Over half of the school would beg to differ,” he states haughtily.

“That’s not love,” Remus snorts. “At least not from your part.”

“My _part_ ,” Sirius says, the smirk on his face growing slowly, “does very well, thank you.”

Remus stares at him long enough for Sirius to start to squirm. “I’m sure it does,” he deadpans. 

Sirius blushes again. Remus grins smugly, picking up a piece of bacon and placing it on Sirius’ plate. 

James waves his hands in front of both of their faces. “Honestly,” he says, “do you two talk about anything other than Sirius’ prick?”

Remus shrugs. “It’s not much to talk about anyway.” 

Sirius punches him in the shoulder. 

Remus laughs, turning to rub his newly bruised shoulder against Sirius’. They smile at each other until Remus turns away. 

“Can’t help tonight, Prongs,” he says to James. “I’ve got homework.”  
  
“When _don’t_ you have homework,” he says, slightly annoyed, though there’s a fond look in his eye that makes Remus smile a little.

“I’ll help,” Peter pipes up, and James gives him a look.

“Did you not just hear when I said you were shit at love?” he asks. 

Peter looks crestfallen, but he says, “I can at least try.”

The hard look on James’ face melts and he smiles slightly at Peter. “I guess bad help is better than no help.”

“That would be absolutely false,” Remus says, shaking his head. “Why don’t you help Padfoot with his prank instead?”

Three sets of eyes turn to look at him in shock.

“Are you kidding?” James says. 

Remus shakes his head, laughing a little. “I think that’s safer. And besides, Snivellus deserves to be pestered more than poor Lily does. I like a good prank as much as you three, as long as it actually _is_ good.” He gives Sirius a pointed look. “And I think you could help Sirius make this one better,” he says to James. 

James seems to think about it before nodding. “Sounds fair.”

And that’s that. James, Sirius, and Peter will be scheming in the Common Room while Remus actually gets some work done in the library. 

::

Or so he thought, because later that evening, when Remus is only five inches done with their twelve inch Herbology assignment, Sirius comes sauntering into the library and collapses into the chair next to him. 

Remus sighs, already lamenting the time he’ll lose because of this. “Can I help you?” he asks sarcastically, turning to look at Sirius. 

The smile Sirius gives him makes his stomach flip, but he decides to ignore it, focussing instead on the way Sirius leans back in his chair, lifting the two front legs off the floor. 

“You’re going to fall,” Remus says.

“Please, Moony,” he says with a smirk. “I’m too pretty to fall.”

Remus reaches out with his foot to kick his chair, but Sirius grabs onto the table before he can topple over. “Hm,” Remus says, “I guess you are.”

Sirius lets all six feet fall to the floor as a blush creeps up his neck. He clears his throat before saying, “Anyway, I came to get you.”

“Why?” Remus says, quirking an eyebrow and admiring the flush on Sirius’ face. 

“Stop staring at me, Moony,” Sirius whispers. 

Just because he asked, Remus can’t look away. The blush gets darker and Remus’ smile gets wider and he says, very lowly, hoping Sirius might not hear, “You’re beautiful.” 

Judging by the slight _oh_ shape his mouth makes, Remus knows he does, but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed because Sirius is blushing even deeper, and _God_ Remus didn’t know someone could look so pretty while resembling a tomato. 

Remus lets his hand brush Sirius’ thigh lightly as he leans down to put his parchment away in his bag. 

There’s always such a thin line between them—the touches they gave each other always bordering on something _more_ : more than just friends who high-five and clap each other on the back. Remus watches the way Sirius breathes in sharply at the contact before straightening up again. 

“What did you need me for?” he asks. 

Sirius looks at him confused for a second before he remembers. “James,” he says simply. “He’s driving me fucking insane. Keeps trying to get me to admit…” he doesn’t finish his sentence and Remus stares at him. “He’s just shit at helping with this prank,” he finally says.

Remus raises his eyebrows, and Sirius looks away, cheeks going pink again. _That blush is going to be the death of me_ , Remus thinks.

“So you want me to…?” Remus doesn’t know how to finish the question. He doesn’t know what Sirius is asking. 

“I just want you to come back to the Common Room with me. Sit on the couch. I swear we’ll let you work on your essay. I’ll be silent as a mouse.”

“Yes, well, mice are related to rats, and if Peter is anything to go by, that’s not very quiet at all.”

“What are you talking about?” Sirius says with a laugh. “I don’t think Peter even said a word all day.” 

Remus laughs too. “Only to voice his discomfort with our discussion of your dick,” Remus agrees.

Sirius blushes again. This is getting out of hand. “Would you stop it?” he says lightly. 

Remus laughs harder. “Come on, Pads,” he says, pulling Sirius up with him when he stands. They make their way out of the library and through the halls to the Common Room. 

Remus lets his hand brush Sirius’ as they walk, never fully reaching out to take it. They’ve held hands before. Between the sheets as they laid next to each other, breaths coming ragged after a particularly terrifying nightmare; under the table in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they learned about werewolves; between the couch cushions while Sirius read a letter he received from his mother. But never as they walked through the hallway. 

Somehow he knows that Sirius wouldn’t shy away if Remus reached out and laced their fingers together, but he’s not so sure what he would do if Sirius was the one to gently grab his. 

He’s come to terms with the zoo in his stomach when Sirius smiles at him. The way his breath comes quicker when Sirius laughs at something he says. And that goddamn blush that’s driving him crazy. 

Sirius never used to blush around him—he was always the composed one, the one that made girls flustered just by walking past them—but now he can’t seem to stop. And Remus loves it. Loves the rush he feels when he sees Sirius’ face flush at the words that leave his mouth. 

They reach the portrait hole and shuffle through, making their way over the couch where James and Peter are sitting. 

“Oi,” Sirius says. “Move, lads, Moony and I are sitting there.”

“Get a fucking room,” James grunts. 

Remus laughs. “We won’t be needing that.”

“You did say you’d fuck me raw later,” Sirius says with a smirk. 

“In your dreams,” Remus says, deciding to settle on the floor and leaning against James’ legs. 

“Actually,” Sirius says, stopping to pretend to think about it, “you’re right.”

“Well I’m glad you’re getting more in your dreams than you are in real life,” Remus says.

James kicks him away. “Quit talking about fucking Sirius, Moony, or we might start to think you actually want to.”  
  
_I do_ , Remus thinks, but he just snorts, reaching out to tug Sirius down too.

He lands in a heap next to him, his head in Remus’ lap and his hands coming up to trace faint patterns on Remus’ arm that’s draped across his middle. Remus runs his hands through Sirius’ hair and turns to look at James again.

“Heard the planning didn’t go well,” he says.

“Yeah,” James nods, “because Padfoot here wouldn’t stop moping about. ‘We need Moony,’ he kept saying. Was driving me absolutely mad.” 

“That’s not true,” Sirius complains.

“Is too,” James says stubbornly. 

“He was properly _mooning_ ,” Peter says, and James laughs in surprise. 

“Good one, Wormy,” James says, slapping Peter on the shoulder. 

Sirius whines, and Remus closes his eyes with two fingers, running his hands through his hair again. 

James makes a gagging noise and Remus glares at him. 

They sit in relative silence aside from James’ occasional groan of faux disgust and Sirius’ sighs of contentment. 

Remus knows this is something couples do. Bloody couples. But he feels like he and Sirius have always been this way.

He sighs. “Get up, Pads,” he says gently. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

Sirius makes a noise of complaint, but lifts his head enough for Remus to scoot out from under him. He salutes his friends and mutters a goodnight, then heads up to their dorm.

After getting ready for bed, he slips under the covers and stares at the canopy above him, picturing the tint to Sirius’ cheeks when Peter had said _mooning_. 

He’s just about to drift off to sleep when the curtain to his bed is pulled back and Sirius slides in. 

“Hey, Moony,” he whispers as Remus moves over to make room for him. 

Remus is grateful that they don’t only sleep together when one of them has nightmares—they realized having another body in bed beside them actually kept the nightmares at bay. Neither of them have had a bad one in a while. 

“Hey,” Remus whispers back. 

They move around a little, getting comfortable, before finally settling into a position that suits them both, wrapped around each other in a way that shouldn’t be as nice as it is. 

Remus thinks he feels Sirius stretch to place a featherlight kiss to his temple, but he falls asleep before he can think much about it. 

::

The next morning, Remus wakes up before Sirius. He looks at his face and thinks how young and peaceful he looks while he’s sleeping. The smile that curls across his face is pathetically fond, he knows this, but no one can see him, so he stares a little longer before finally slipping out of the bed gently, careful not to wake Sirius as he stands and starts to make his way to the bathroom.

A white envelope sitting on his bedside table catches his attention, though, and stops him in his tracks. He looks at it for a second, wondering what it could be. He walks over to it slowly—if it’s from one of his friends, there’s a high possibility that it’s been hexed to turn his hair pink or make him sing nursery rhymes for 24 hours or something. 

He taps it with his wand, deciding that it hasn’t been hexed, and picks it up. Unfolding the top, he pulls a small red card out and begins to read.

 

> _Roses are red,_
> 
> _Violets are blue._
> 
> _Your eyes are amber,_
> 
> _I’m lost in them._  

Remus blinks, reads it a second and third time. 

“What?” he says quietly. It doesn’t even rhyme. 

_Who is this from?_ he thinks to himself. 

He reads it one last time before slipping the card back into the envelope. He tucks it into his pajama pocket and turns around, jumping a little when he sees Sirius staring at him.

“Whatcha got there, Moony?” he asks, trying to grab the envelope out of Remus’ pocket. 

“Nothing,” Remus says defensively. “It’s nothing.”

James walks over then, rubbing his eyes. His hair looks even more of a mess than usual, and Sirius laughs at him.

“Looking good, Jamie,” he says with a smile.

“Fuck off,” James grunts. “What is it, Remus?”

“Nothing,” Remus says again. “Really.”

“Nuh uh,” James tuts. “No you don’t. You’re gonna share it with the rest of us. Marauder’s honor.”

Remus rolls his eyes, more than fed up with James’ ‘Marauder’s honor’ shit he’s been pulling lately. That’s how he found out Peter had snogged some Hufflepuff girl and Sirius had a giant crush on someone—though none of them know who it is because he had refused to name them. 

Remus doesn’t like to think about the second secret James had gotten out of his friends. 

He sighs and fishes the envelope out of his pocket, handing it over to James and ignoring the protest Sirius gives when he doesn’t give it to him.

“‘Roses are red, violets are blue. Your eyes are amber, I’m lost in them.’” James reads. “Well this is absolute rubbish,” he says and Remus laughs. 

He turns his head in confusion at the hurt noise Sirius makes, but when he looks back at Remus he has his infamous smirk playing on his lips. Remus shakes his head and turns back to James.

“I don’t know who it’s from,” he admits.

“Well it’s not like it’s signed,” James says slowly, but gives a pointed look to Sirius. 

Remus glances over in time to see Sirius’ cheeks coloring. He files that away to think about later. Right now, the only thing he does is snatch the letter from James’ hand and declare he’s going to take a shower. He slides the envelope back into his pocket and walks out of the room. 

Before he shuts the door, he hears James saying, “Really, Padfoot?” 

He doesn’t dwell on it. 

::

It’s after lunch and Remus is back in the library, all thoughts of the poorly written love poem forgotten. He’s reading up on advanced potion making when he hears a faint thump to his right. He glances up to see a white envelope identical to the one he received this morning sitting on the table. 

He glances around, looking for the source of the envelope, but the library is still as deserted as it’s been all afternoon. Remus sighs, reaching for it and opening it slowly. He pulls a card out, gold this time, and reads it.

 

> _Your hair isn’t blonde,_
> 
> _But it isn’t brown either._
> 
> _My love isn’t false,_
> 
> _But it isn’t requited either._

Remus stares at that one four letter word. Someone loves him? He sits there for a few minutes, staring at _love_ and breathing a little too fast, but then he reads the poem again and he scoffs.

Whoever this is, whether they love him or not, is absolutely shit at writing poetry. Is this supposed to be romantic?

He stands, packing his books up and stuffing the envelope into the pocket of his robes.

He heads to the Common Room where he knows he’ll find Sirius, James, and Peter, and when he walks through the portrait hole a few minutes later, he clears his throat to get their attention. 

Three heads turn to look at him. 

“Lads,” he says. “There’s been another attack.”

James snorts. “Attack?”

Remus hands him the envelope. He doesn’t know why James has been chosen as designated reader of Remus’ poor excuse for love notes, but he doesn’t hesitate in fishing it over when James reaches for it. 

“‘Your hair isn’t blonde, but it isn’t brown either. My love isn’t false, but it isn’t requited either.’ Someone ought to put this poor bird out of her misery,” James says.

“How do you know it’s a bird?” Sirius asks softly, staring somewhere past Remus.

Remus tilts his head, looking at Sirius. “I don’t,” he says honestly. “Could be anyone. Anyone who has no poetic talent,” he clarifies. 

“Which rules me out,” James says with a laugh.

“You’re hardly a poet, Prongs,” Sirius declares. “That one sonnet—terrible sonnet, might I add—that you wrote for Lily doesn’t count since it was, and I say this in the nicest way possible, complete and utter shit.” 

James hits him across the back of the head but doesn’t defend his sonnet. They all know it was bad. Remus shivers just thinking about it. 

“Anyway,” Remus says slowly. “I need to figure out who this is and teach them how to write properly immediately.”

“Only you would want to find your secret admirer just to teach them an English lesson,” James says with a laugh. 

“How romantic,” Sirius deadpans. 

“What’s _romantic_ ,” Remus says, annoyed, “is a well-written poem. Why couldn’t I have a secret admirer—I hate saying that. I have a secret admirer. Fuck.” Remus takes a moment to compose himself. “I’m sure they’re nice,” he tries, but cringes at his own words. “But why couldn’t they be talented?”

James laughs loudly, elbowing Peter on accident and almost shoving him off the couch. “That’s awfully harsh, don’t you think, Moony?”

Remus just shrugs. 

“What if,” Peter starts, but Sirius cuts him off.

“What if they’re writing badly on purpose?” Sirius suggests. 

Remus lifts an eyebrow. “Why would they do that?”

Sirius shrugs. “Dunno. You’d have to ask them yourselves,” he says it suggestively, like Remus should be able to detect what his tone of voice is trying to say even if his words aren’t. 

Remus shakes his head. “Well, if they happen to be in this room,” Remus says, and then raises his voice, talking loud enough that the other sixth years near them will hear, “I rather enjoy well written poetry.” He says it pointedly, like his secret admirer—gross—is sitting right behind him or something. 

James and Sirius both roll their eyes. “Good luck with that, Moony,” James says, but he’s laughing, throwing a look over at Sirius before he turns back to the Quidditch magazine he has in his lap. 

Remus really needs to figure out what those looks mean that James keeps giving Sirius.

He finally sits down next to Sirius, wondering briefly when they got demoted to sitting on the floor instead of James and Peter. Usually he and Sirius were the ones to lounge on the couch, their legs tangled together where they met in the middle.

Sirius shoots him a small smile as he gets settled, raising a hand to his neck and curling around it for a second before settling on his shoulder, arm slung around him and pulling him in close. 

Remus sighs and drops his head to Sirius’ shoulder. 

“Tired?” Sirius whispers. 

“A bit,” Remus concedes. 

“Wanna go for a nap?” he asks and Remus nods his head, standing up with Sirius.

“Hey, where are you two going?” James asks as they turn away.

“Dorm,” Sirius just says and leads Remus upstairs with a hand on his back.

He can practically hear how hard James rolls his eyes even though he can’t see him doing it. Peter calls goodbye to them, but neither respond.

They get to the dorm and head straight for Remus’ bed, sliding under the covers, Sirius’ chest pressed to Remus’ back. 

“Who do you think it is?” Sirius asks.

Remus exhales, turning over to face Sirius. He shrugs—as much as he can in this position. “Dunno,” he says. “I’ve only gotten two, and they haven’t exactly given any clues or anything.”

Sirius nods, closing his eyes for a bit. Remus thinks they’re actually going to sleep, but then Sirius opens his mouth again.

“Who do you want it to be?” he asks softly.

Remus opens his eyes to see Sirius looking at him, an almost hopeful look in his eye. 

_What?_

He hadn’t been expecting this question. Who _did_ he want it to be?  
  
Well, Sirius, of course, but he couldn’t exactly say that right now. He breathes in and out a couple times before saying, “I don’t know.”

Sirius seems to deflate at that. 

They’re silent for a little while longer and Remus brings a hand up to stroke softly at the curve of Sirius’ jaw, the other boy letting out a sigh of content. 

“Never stop,” he whispers, and then his breathing evens out, finally falling asleep.

Remus smiles to himself, running his hand across Sirius’ face until he falls asleep, too.

::

They’re awoken by a very loud James yanking the curtains aside and yelling, “Moony, there’s another one!”

Remus groans, rolling over so his face is buried in Sirius’ chest. “Another what?” he asks, but then sits up when he remembers the letters. “Oh. Where is it?” he asks.

James waves the envelope in his hand. It was at the end of your bed.

“Who snuck in here while we were sleeping to deliver that?” Remus asks. “Seems a little creepy if you ask me.”

“I don’t know,” James says in a weird voice. “Who ever could it be?” He gives Sirius one of those _looks_ and Remus clears his throat. 

That has to mean something.

“James,” he says sternly. “Do you know something I don’t?”

James looks at him innocently, and—wow, his innocent face is decidedly _not_ innocent. Remus wonders how he’s capable of working his way out of detention so easily. Certainly not with that face.

“Of course not,” he says simply, pulling the card—white—out of the envelope and adjusting his glasses before he starts to read it. “‘I feel at home when I’m with you. Your smile makes my nights brighter.’ That’s not even bloody poetry,” James says as he finishes it.

Remus snatches it out of his hand and reads it for himself. 

 

> _I feel at home_
> 
> _When I’m with you._
> 
> _Your smile makes_
> 
> _My nights brighter._

Remus stiffens. “It’s someone I know,” he says.

Peter’s eyes widen a bit at that. “Who do you think it is?” he asks.

But Remus still doesn’t have more of a clue than he did when Sirius asked him the same question just a little bit ago.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. 

“Could be that Ravenclaw girl I saw you with the other day,” James says. “She seemed pretty keen on you.”

“She was asking to borrow my Arithmancy notes, Prongs,” Remus says. “I don’t think she was keen on anything but catching up in class.”

James just shrugs. “Or,” he says, a glint in his eyes as he glances at Sirius, “it could be—”

Sirius jumps in lightning fast. “It could be anyone, really. You talk to a lot of people.”

Remus gives him a puzzled look. “Not really,” he says slowly. “I spend most of my time with you three. I study with Lily occasionally, but it couldn’t be her.”

“Fucking better not be,” James says with a scowl.

“I’m not trying to steal your girl,” Remus says. “Besides, it has to be someone who knows me well, right?” he asks, uncertain.

There’s a tension in the air as they all glance at each other, and Remus decides he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. 

“I’m going to dinner,” he declares, standing up. “Coming, lads?”

They all file out of the dormitory, walking in a group to the Great Hall. No one brings up the letter again until they’re finished eating. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” James says as they enter the Common Room. 

They’re all standing around the couch staring down at a white envelope. 

Remus looks at it warily before picking it up. He opens it—a blue card—and reads it quietly to himself, holding it out of reach of the others. 

He ignores their sounds of protest as he gulps and reads it again.

 

> _Roses are red,_
> 
> _Violets are blue._
> 
> _In the next letter,_
> 
> _There will be a clue._

James finally grabs it out of his hands and reads it aloud. “A clue!” he exclaims after he finishes. “This is fucking fantastic. This is just what we need.”

Remus swallows. He’s not sure he wants to know who it is. Not if it isn’t who he wants it to be. “At least this one actually rhymes,” he says weakly.

“Moony, you lucky bastard. This is the most fun I’ve had all month,” James says gleefully. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, “what about my prank on Snape?”  
  
“See, mate, you haven’t actually done anything yet,” James says and Sirius punches him in the arm.

“I’m getting to it. I still have to come up with Phase Three.”

“Yeah, whatever you say. But this is still more fun in the meantime.” James collapses onto the couch, Peter falling down beside him.

Sirius scowls. “Why do you two suddenly get the couch?”  
  
“Because we’re not lovesick puppies,” James says simply.

Sirius’ cheeks color and Remus feels something deep in his stomach at the fact it wasn’t him that made Sirius blush. He brushes it off, though, glancing back down at the note.

“I am not,” Sirius grits out, “a _lovesick puppy_.”

“You’re right; you’re a lovesick mutt.”

Sirius jumps on James, tackling him into the couch cushions.

“Watch it,” Peter yelps.

“Careful now,” Remus says, sitting on the floor. “Someone might get the wrong impression about you two.”

He laughs when they spring apart, James clutching his heart.

“Sorrry, Padfoot, but my heart belongs to Lily.”

“I don’t want your fucking heart, Potter,” he says haughtily, straightening out his shirt. It’s untucked and almost all the way unbuttoned and Remus knows he’s staring more than he should but _fuck_ , when did his shirt even come unbuttoned?

“Enjoying the view?” Sirius asks softly as he settles beside Remus, his hand immediately coming to rest on Remus’ thigh. 

“More like thinking of the best way to erase that from my memory.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Admit it, Moony, you love my body.”

“I prefer it to your stupid mouth, that’s for sure.”

Sirius’ cheeks color at that, and Remus feels smug. 

“Shut up,” Sirius mumbles. 

They settle against each other: Remus’ knee resting on Sirius’ leg and Sirius’ hand moving from Remus’ thigh to curl around his ankle.

“Cut it out, you two,” James calls from the couch.

“We’re not even _doing_ anything, Prongs,” Sirius says. 

“Oh, you’re doing enough,” James mutters. 

Sirius just shakes his head and lifts his wand to make a piece of dust from his pants fly around in front of him. 

Remus smiles to himself, pulling a book out of his pocket and opening it up. 

::

Remus sighs, lifting his head from his Charms homework to look around the Common Room. His eyes flit over James and Peter, sitting at a table nearby, their respective homework abandoned in favor of a game of chess.

James is absolutely crushing Peter, and the noises of complaint coming from the rounder boy are starting to annoy Remus.

“Have you guys seen Padfoot?” he asks them.

They both shake their heads, not even looking up from the board. Remus nods, standing up to head towards their dormitory. 

He takes the stairs two at a time, coming to a stop in front of their door to take a breath. He pushes it open and calls out for Sirius. When he doesn’t get an answer, he walks over to his bed, pulling back the curtains to see if he’d gone for a nap, but that’s empty, too. 

He turns to his own bed, jumping slightly when he sees that there’s a white envelope laying on his pillow. He grabs it and starts for the Common Room again, going to round up his friends. 

He notices Sirius has now turned up, sitting on the couch near James and Peter. 

“Prongs,” he says as soon as he gets close. “There’s another one.”  
  
“Bloody brilliant,” James exclaims. “This is the one you’ll get a hint in, right?”

Remus nods. “Dormitory?” he asks, but he’s already walking away again, knowing they’ll follow close behind. 

When they’re all settled on and around Remus’ bed, Remus hands the envelope to James.

He clears his throat and starts to read. “‘You’re more like the moon than you know. You save your best lies for me. But I’m nothing like the stars.” James pauses here, glancing up briefly at Sirius. “They may shine with light from years before, but I don’t shine at all—burnt out too soon, extinguished too fast.’” He finishes the poem and stares at Remus, his eyes a little wide.

Remus takes the card from him gently, holding it up to scan his eyes across it. 

 

> _You're more like_
> 
> _the moon than you know._
> 
> _You save your best lies_
> 
> _for me._
> 
> _But I'm nothing like_
> 
> _the stars._
> 
> _They may shine with light_
> 
> _From years before,_
> 
> _But I don't shine at all—_
> 
> _Burnt out too soon,_
> 
> _extinguished too fast._

They're all silent. Remus looks from the card to the floor, too nervous to glance at Sirius. He's sure they all know who the secret admirer is, but no one says it out loud.

James doesn't say, _I knew it!_

Peter doesn't laugh and clap his hands. 

And Remus doesn't look at them. Not for a while. 

Everyone is still silent when he finally raises his head, his gaze immediately landing on Sirius. He doesn't expect to see him staring back at him, a sad look in his grey eyes. He gives Remus a watery smile and slips off the bed, heading for the dormitory door. 

Remus doesn't follow him. No one does. 

“Give him some time,” James says softly. “You’ll talk about it later.” 

Remus nods. He knows they will.

::

After the last letter, and how none of them have yet to address it, Remus doesn't expect to get another one. He had barely seen Sirius since, and he was starting to get worried—wondering whether or not he should seek him out first—but he knew the other boy would come around eventually. 

He's sitting outside with James the next day when another letter falls into his lap, and the two of them look at it with mirrored expressions of surprise. 

Remus is too nervous to read it, thrusting it at James instead.

James nods and opens the envelope, scanning it quickly before reading it aloud for Remus. 

 

> _I don't trust the moon,_
> 
> _She's never herself,_
> 
> _Not fully, not completely._
> 
> _And when she is,_
> 
> _She only hurts you—_
> 
> _Tears you in two and makes_
> 
> _You something you're not._
> 
> _The only moon I need is you._

Remus briefly regrets having James read it. This one seems more intimate than the others, and Remus fidgets slightly under James’ gaze. 

"What are you going to do?" he asks softly. 

Remus shakes his head. What _is_ he going to do? 

"I don't know," he sighs. "I have to talk to him, don't I? He knows I know it's him. How could he not when he was there for that last one?" He looks at James, but he doesn't say anything, just lets Remus collect his thoughts before saying, “The moon and stars gave it away.” Remus smiles, only for a second. "I have to go find him." 

He starts to stand, but then there's another envelope fluttering down on the ground in front of him. He gives James a confused look. 

"They've never come this close together."

James reaches out his hand, picking it up, but then he hesitates. "Do you want me to read it?"

Remus just shrugs lightly. He doesn't necessarily want James to know what all of them say, but he knows he'll learn what it says eventually, anyway. 

James coughs a little when he reads it. "Kiss me," he says. 

"No thanks, Prongs," Remus replies. "I'm flattered, really, but—"

"No, you idiot," James laughs. "Not me. Kiss Padfoot."

"I know," Remus says, finally getting to his feet. "I think I will." 

And with that he walks back to the castle to find Sirius. 

::

As Remus walks into the castle, he thinks of what he’s going to say to Sirius. 

He’s liked him for a while, and now he knew that Sirius liked him back, but he still has no idea what to tell him when he finds him. 

He thinks over the poems he’d gotten from Sirius, a faint smile on his face. He apparently had been purposefully writing bad ones—though Remus had a hard time believing that: Sirius was never the best creative writer of the four of them. At least he wasn’t as bad as Peter.

He’s got a small speech ready in his head when he finally comes to a stop in front of the portrait hole, mumbling the password and walking in. There’s no sign of Sirius in the Common Room, though, and Remus briefly hopes that he’ll be in their dormitory. 

He passes by Peter on his way through the room, giving him a small nod and laughing a little to himself about how lost he looks without James or anyone with him.

When he gets to the door to their dormitory, he stops to collect himself. He breathes in and out, counting to ten before turning the handle. 

Sirius is sitting on Remus’ bed when he walks in, his knees pulled up to his chest and a slightly nervous look on his face. 

All plans for what he was going to say leave his head as soon as his eyes lock on Sirius’, and he crosses the room in four quick strides, putting his hand on the back of Sirius’ neck and kissing him.

Sirius gasps slightly when their lips meet, but he’s quick to reciprocate, putting his arms around Remus’ neck and effectively dragging him on top of him on the bed. 

They lay there like that for what seems like hours, their mouths moving against each other and their hands exploring the skin they’ve touched before but not like this—not in a way that says _I need you_ and _I love you._

And that’s what they say—Remus knows their mouths and their hands and their hearts are saying those three words over and over and over even if their ears can’t hear them. 

When they finally break apart, Sirius sighs, long and happy and blissful. His face is a dark red. “You’re my Moony,” he whispers. 

“And you’re a terrible poet,” Remus says, pulling him in for another quick kiss. “But…”

“But?” Sirius asks.

“But,” Remus repeats, “I love you.”

The blush on his face darkens, but the smile that Sirius gives him is brighter than all the stars combined—and he thought he didn’t shine.

Remus’ heart clenches. “I love you,” he says again, kissing Sirius’ forehead. “And you weren't extinguished. You couldn’t have been if I see your light right now.”

“God, Moony,” Sirius says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Who knew you were such a sap?”  
  
“Says the one who wrote anonymous love poems.

Sirius laughs. “It was rather romantic, wasn’t it.”

Remus shakes his head. “No. It was bloody awful.”

Sirius glares at him and he laughs, pulling him closer to his chest.

“I’m glad you did it, though.” 

“So am I,” Sirius sighs, scooting up to kiss Remus again.

This kiss is softer, slower, than the other one. They have all the time in the world ahead of them, and they both know it. 

Or, they would’ve if James and Peter hadn’t chosen that exact moment to come barging through the dormitory door. 

Peter makes a choked noise, tripping over himself a little as he raises his hands in the air, clapping.

“Fucking finally!” James exclaims. “What did I tell you, Wormy.”

Peter doesn’t respond, just fishes a galleon out of his pocket and hands it to James. 

James kisses it and says, “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen.”

Then, he and Peter walk back out of the room.

“What the fuck just happened?” Remus asks.

“Who knows," Sirius says, but the blush on his face has gone all the way down his neck.

They look at each other for a moment before Sirius pulls Remus back to him, kissing him once, twice, before resting their foreheads together. “I love you, too,” he says.

They kiss until they fall asleep, wrapped around each other like they always are, like they always will be.

::

Remus wakes up the next morning to see Sirius staring at him with a smile on his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“That was a little creepy,” Remus responds.

Sirius laughs, running his hand through Remus’ hair before saying, “It’s not my fault you’re so beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Remus says around a yawn, “I suppose that’s a complaint for my parents.”

“Never a complaint. I want to personally thank them.”

“Next time you’re over,” Remus says, leaning in for a quick kiss before getting out of bed.

Sirius whines, reaching out his hands to try to drag Remus back into bed.

“Oh no you don’t,” Remus huffs. “We have to get down to breakfast before James and Peter have eaten all the bacon.”

Sirius laughs at him. “You know all the plates refill themselves.”

Remus shrugs, walking to the bathroom.

After they’re both dressed and ready for the day, they head down to the Great Hall, spotting James and Peter and sitting down across from them at the table.

“Morning, lovebirds,” James says around a mouthful of food.

“Morning, Jamie,” Sirius replies.

James scowls at him lightly. “Shut it.”

Sirius and Remus load up their plates as James and Peter finish their food.

Peter’s head perks up as the owls start to fly into the room. “Mail’s here,” he says, pointing.

They all glance up, watching as a grey owl drops a white envelope in front of Remus.

His eyes widen a little and he looks at Sirius, who’s smiling down at his plate.

Remus picks up the envelope and pulls out the card—it’s green. His eyes scan the page.

 

> _I’ve been seeing angels._
> 
> _I’d never felt so far from heaven,_
> 
> _Until I met you._
> 
> _You brought me closer to salvation,_
> 
> _But I only worship you._

Remus shakes his head, turning to Sirius. “You’re still a shit poet,” he says.

Sirius just smiles at him.

“But I love it.” He kisses Sirius’ cheek, a blush immediately rising on his face.

“God, you two,” James groans. “Fucking unbearable.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have Lily to be a sop with,” Peter says.

James gives him a look. “Just you wait, Wormtail. Just you wait.”

“Okay, Prongs,” Sirius speaks up, shaking his head. 

The four of them go back to their breakfast: Peter helping himself to more food, James pulling out today’s _Daily Prophet_ , and Sirius taking Remus’ hand beneath the table.

Remus gives him a smile, private and soft just for him. 

“You think I’m an angel?” he asks, a teasing smile on his face.

Sirius glances at him with a grin and a nod.

“You worship me,” Remus whispers.

“Damn right I do,” Sirius says. 

Remus smiles at him, admiring the flush of his cheeks.  _God_ , he loves this boy.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i didn't really proofread this extra carefully so sorry about any and all mistakes you had to endure along the way


End file.
